


Adventures in Babysitting with Finwe and Mahtan

by RedCoatsRedder



Series: A Light in Dark Places (When All Other Lights Go Out) [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brotherly Love, Capture the Flag, Everyone's happy, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Huan Is A Good Dog, Other, good grandparents finwe and mahtan, happier times, useless grandpas Finwe and Mahtan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCoatsRedder/pseuds/RedCoatsRedder
Summary: Feanor and Nerdanel ask Finwe and Mahtan to babysit their seven sons for them. Nothing can go wrong right? Right?Featuring games of capture the flag, family Bonding Times (tm), nervous parents and guest starring Huan the Dog!
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Series: A Light in Dark Places (When All Other Lights Go Out) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562608
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Adventures in Babysitting with Finwe and Mahtan

Nothing was going to go wrong. Finwe had repeated this sentence roughly thirteen and a half times in the last ten minutes, but his son didn’t seem convinced. 

For the final three minutes of the last ten, Feanor had been hovering on the doorstep. At least Nerdanel had made it past the door and was now talking to Mahtan outside, probably going over the same things as her husband. They didn’t need to be so worried-nothing was going to go wrong. Finwe was sure of it. After all, surely two grown elves could handle seven children?

“Ata, we can just leave Nelyo in charge. He knows what to do, he’ll be fine. You and Mahtan don’t need to do this.” Feanor seemed to have finally made a decision, but unfortunately for him, it was the wrong one. Finwe gently guided his son to the door. 

“It’s all going to be fine, Feanaro. Don’t worry about a thing. You and Nerdanel just go out and have a nice evening, and we’ll watch your children. You forget that I raised not only you but your brothers and sisters. I’m sure I can handle seven boys on my own, and with Mahtan here it’ll be a breeze.” He pushed Feanor out the door and pulled Mahtan inside, blocking the entrance. “Go have fun, you two.” 

At last, their children were out the door. Finwe turned to Mahtan with a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Let’s go find our grandchildren, shall we?” 

Feanor had said the boys were finishing up dinner, so Finwe lead the way to the dining room. There seemed to be something going on inside. He frowned and pushed open the door. 

Celegorm had Curufin in a headlock and was repeatedly mussing his hair while the younger boy yelled some truly shocking insults. Amrod and Amras were clinging to Maedhros’s back. The eldest elfling was spinning around trying to dislodge them, but they were laughing madly and refused to let go. Caranthir was attempting to help Maedhros, but one of the twins’ legs caught him in the chest and he fell into a chair, winded. In the middle of it all, Maglor had a harp on his lap and some paper in front of him, plucking the strings and writing things down. 

Mahtan closed the door. He turned to Finwe, and the look of dawning horror that was spreading on his face mirrored Finwe’s own. “Maybe they were right.” 

Inside, the noise seemed to have stopped and Finwe opened the door again, albeit much more cautiously this time. The seven boys were all sitting calmly in chairs around the table, looking very civil and not at all like they’d been doing the things they were doing not twenty seconds earlier. Well, except for Maglor. He was still lost in his composition. 

“Hi Grandfathers!” one of the twins chirped. 

“Hello, boys.” Finwe couldn’t help but grin. Mahtan swept into the room, kissing each one of them on the forehead. 

“So. We have at least three hours until your parents come home.” he announced. “What can we accomplish in that amount of time?” 

“I could finish this.” Maglor muttered, scowling when he plucked a false note on his harp. He seemed to realize they’d all heard him, and blushed as red as his brothers’ hair. 

“Sure you could, Mags! But it will still be there in the morning, and we won’t be. Come on, on your feet!” Mahtan set the harp on the table and lifted Maglor under the arms, up and out of the chair. “Now, did your parents give you any rules?” 

“Listen to you and listen to Nelyo.” Six of the seven boys replied. Maedhros simply nodded as if to confirm their statement. 

“Excellent!” Mahtan clapped his hands. “Finwe, any ideas?” 

Suddenly there were eight expectant gazes trained on him. He scanned his brain for any sort of a game they might be able to play, and, like a memory from a dream, something came to him. 

“Did your father ever teach you how to play Capture the Flag?” 

Maedhros nods. “We still play sometimes, but since there’s seven of us the teams are only really even if our cousins play too or if Ata or Nana join in.” 

His children had loved that game. Except for Irime, who had preferred to referee. They would spend hours outside playing, or if the weather was uncooperative, they’d play inside, making up new rules and building forts and bases out of pillows and blankets from the couches and beds. 

“Well, there’s nine of us now, so let’s make three teams. We’ll play like your father and uncles and aunts did when they were little. If we remember to clean up I see no reason why we can’t make blanket forts to serve as each team’s base.” 

“Us and Grandpa Mahtan are Team Red Hair!” Amras shouted, grabbing his twin’s hand. 

“Hey, my hair’s red too!” Maedhros objected. 

“Fine. We’re Team Red Hair Except for Nelyo.” Amrod corrected.

“Maedhros, Caranthir and I are the Intelligent People Team.” Maglor sniggered, causing his remaining brothers to erupt in good-natured protest.

“Then Grandpa Finwe, Curufin and I are Team Huan!” Celegorm declared. Upon hearing his name, Celegorm’s dog bounded into the room. 

“Huan is a neutral party.” Finwe added. “He can neither help nor hinder any team. No one team will have an advantage over any other. Now, we’ll use the entire house, so each team gets a floor. The goal will be to bring the other two team’s flags to your own base without getting caught. You’re only safe when you’re inside your team’s base. Let’s say half an hour for building and then we start?” 

The boys cheered, and each took off running. 

Twenty nine minutes later, Finwe had feathers from a pillow Curufin had accidentally broken braided into his hair, a rather magnificent fort if he did say so himself, and one of Celegorm’s undershirts (clean, thankfully) displayed in pride of place in front of their base as the flag. 

A loud chord from Maglor’s harp echoed through the house- the signal for the game to begin. Celegorm positioned himself inside their base as their self appointed lookout. Finwe and Curufin crept into the unknown territory (the second floor corridor) outside their safe haven. 

The first members of another team they encounter is the twins. They had claimed the third floor, and were sneaking down the stairs on their bellies. It seemed they’d raided Nerdanel’s makeup, because they had red streaks painted on their cheeks. When they saw Finwe and Curufin, they started shrieking and giggling madly and raced back upstairs. 

“Nelyo and Caranthir probably came up with some sort of fancy strategy.” Curufin explains as they wait in the hall for the next attack. “So we should probably go right now before they have a chance to plan anything else.” 

So they make their way down to the first floor. It’s all quiet, suspiciously quiet. The base of the Intelligent People Team is right at the end of the hall, positioned in front of the closed dining room door. Finwe has to admit that was clever-now they can be sure that there’s only one way for an attack to come. On a short stool in front of the fort lies one of Maedhros’s circlets. 

Curufin ventures slowly forward, looking from side to side and occasionally back at Finwe to make sure he’s still there. Just as he’s about to grab the circlet, Maedhros jumps out from where he’d apparently concealed himself behind a swath of blanket and grabs his little brother’s wrist, cackling like a madman. 

Finwe feels hands at his back and laughs. Caranthir appears behind him, grinning. “Got you both!” 

“Celegorm! Come help us!” Curufin shouts, sitting down in front of the enemy base. 

“Come on Nelyo! Now’s our chance!” Caranthir shouts, and the two race off, presumably to either stop Celegorm or to capture their flag. 

Fortunately, Celegorm appears a few minutes later. His blond hair is full of white feathers, and he looks a bit like a baby bird. But he successfully rescues his teammates and soon they’re sprinting back upstairs to their base. When they arrive, Celegorm’s undershirt is gone. 

“They must’ve gotten it when I went to rescue you guys.” He groans. 

“Never fear. We’ll get it back.” Finwe is very confident in his own abilities. He used to be wonderful at this when he played with his children. 

At that moment Maglor comes hurtling down the stairs, a riding boot in his hand. He sees them gathered in front of their base and tries to dodge, but a conveniently placed sculpture of Nerdanel’s keeps him trapped. Celegorm leaps forward and wraps himself around his brother’s leg. 

“Gotcha!” he crows. 

Now at least they have one flag, and one prisoner. Maglor lies flopped dramatically next to their base, and starts making up a song on the spot. It’s not bad, of course it’s not, Maglor was singing it after all. He even has Finwe humming along after a few minutes. 

Until Curufin decides that the prisoner should be deprived of his singing voice and uses the fabric from the ruined pillow to create a gag for Maglor. 

Meanwhile, Mahtan is busy defending Team Red Hair Except for Nelyo’s fort and flag from the relentless Caranthir and Maedhros. Every time he comes close to catching one, the other will dart forward to try and snatch the undershirt Amrod had just won from Team Huan, and then promptly raced off to help Amras. 

Finally, he catches Maedhros’s arm. His oldest grandchild shouts “Go!” to Caranthir, who disappears downstairs again. 

“We have a plan.” Maedhros tells him confidentially. “It’s a pretty good plan.” 

Of course, he won’t tell Mahtan anything about it, no matter how much he teases. 

The Ambarrussa come skidding around the corner. “Their flag is gone! Team Huan must have it!” 

“Celegorm’s going to be insufferable if they win.” Maedhros groans. 

Suddenly, a tentative, unspoken alliance is formed. Team Huan never stood a chance. 

Finwe is creeping downstairs with Celegorm this time, ready to steal back their flag from Intelligent People Team once and for all. They must have their flag at the very least, right? 

But no. Yet again there is no payoff for their expedition and they’re just about to make a break for the stairs when Caranthir comes dashing down. 

And yet again, he's a prisoner of this team. The things you do for love, huh? 

Not five minutes later, Curufin barrels down the stairs, sees Caranthir and immediately turns tail, which was a wise decision. He didn’t stand a chance against his older brother, not yet anyways. Celegorm shouts as he’s leaving. 

“Get the other flags from Team Red Hair! Don’t worry about us!” 

But as far as Finwe knows, Team Red Hair is the only one who has all of their team intact. 

Though the victorious shouting indicates that Curufin has captured one of the twins. There’s a lot of thumping, like footsteps running through the halls and up the stairs. Finwe wonders just what is going on up there, and hopes no one is going to have any injuries he’s going to have to explain to his son. 

Caranthir quietly sneaks up the stairs after Curufin, and Celegorm shouts to warn him. Maybe twelve minutes later, Finwe thinks, Caranthir and Maglor sneak back down the stairs, smug grins on their faces. Their smug looks quickly become shock when the twins (both of them-Curufin must be slacking on guard duty) appear. 

They chase them down the hall and upstairs. Finwe can’t help but laugh at the sight. They must have followed them all the way back upstairs, or gotten caught, because Curufin takes the opportunity to make his way downstairs and free them. 

“The flag is missing!” he exclaims. “Team Red Hair must have it!” 

“That means they won!” Celegorm moans. 

So the members of Team Huan and Intelligent People Team trudge upstairs to congratulate Team Red Hair on their victory. 

Mahtan grins at him. “Come to surrender, Finwe?” 

“Well done, Mahtan, Amrod, Amras. You make quite the team.” Finwe says sincerely, ruffling the twins’ hair. But the boys look up at him in confusion.

“We only have one flag! I thought we were supposed to get all three.” Amras says. “All we have is Celegorm’s smelly undershirt.” 

“Hey! That one’s clean!” Celegorm protests. 

Maedhros frowns. “Then where’s the rest of the flags? We don’t have them.” 

“Neither do we.” Curufin adds. 

Celegorm’s eyes widen. “Oh, no.” He takes off running down the hall, and after exchanging confused looks, the rest of them follow him. 

They find him standing outside his room, looking as though he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He gestures inside with a wave of his hand. 

Sitting on the floor in front of his bed is Huan, his nose buried as best he can in a riding boot that looks like it’s probably going to need to be replaced. A circlet that bears distinctive chew marks is lying on the ground beside his front paws. 

He looks up from the boot and gives a happy bark, his tail thumping against the floor, then returns to his prize. 

Try as he might, a smile makes its way onto Finwe’s face. “Well, that’s one mystery solved. Since he’s the one with the most flags, it looks like Huan is the winner.” 

Celgorm laughs and hugs his dog. “Good job, boy.” 

… 

Feanor and Nerdanel return home late. Which is fine. It just means there was more time for things to go wrong. 

He keeps himself from expressing this worry as they make their way to the door, and slip inside. Everything is dark and silent, which could be good, or it could be catastrophic. They make their way through the house, noting the funny piles of blankets and pillows that seem to be scattered on every floor. 

But no sign of their parents, or their sons. Which is fine. It’s late, they’re probably sleeping. 

Finally, they see two figures exiting a room, easing the door shut behind them. 

“Ata!” Feanor exclaims. “Is everything alright?” 

Finwe smiles and shakes his head. “No faith in your father, Feanaro? Everything’s just fine. See for yourself.” 

He gestures to the door. 

Feanor and Nerdanel peer into the darkened room. Their boys are curled up together on the couch, except for Celegorm, who’s leaning against a slumbering Huan, and Curufin, who’s resting against his shoulder. The rest of them seem to have decided that Maedhros, with his height, makes a perfect pillow. All seven of them are fast asleep. 

Mahtan beams at them. “See? Nothing went wrong.” 

Finwe and Mahtan say goodbye to their children, who thank them several times for watching the boys. Then they head for the door. 

“That was fun.” Mahtan says as they walk into the night. “We should do that again. It was nice to spend some time with our grandchildren.” 

“We should.” Finwe agrees. “But next time, we put the dog outside for Capture the Flag.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> More Finwean fluff! Trying to get back in that writing groove. Hope you guys liked that!


End file.
